Three times he said ILY and one she did
by Naty L. Potter
Summary: For three times John Smith said he loved her, and then it was finally her turn.


**Title:** Three times he said ILY and one she did.

**Author:** Naty.

**Series:** Doctor Who.

**Ship:** Tentoo (Human!Doctor) & Rose.

**Category:** To Marcia Litman, Post SF-S04, Second Person, PoV Rose, angst/romance/fluff, 1051 words.

**Warning:** Spoilers to the end of the fourth season and maybe something more.

**Rate:** PG-13.

**Chapters:** One-shot.

**Complete:** Yes.

**Summary:** For three times John Smith said he loved her, and then it was finally her turn.

**A/N:** Fanfic made to my dearest friend Marcia Litman as a prize for winning as "most versatile writer" on a challenge. Written originally in Portuguese.

* * *

**I**

You asked just for asking. You wanted to hear those words so much that there, on that time, it didn't matter who was saying them.

It isn't that you didn't want him to say it. He just… wasn't exactly _him_. Mas when those three words came out of his mouth, on _his_ voice, you kissed him not being able to control yourself or even thinking about anything else.

And then _he_ left and he stood by your side giving you his hand and trying to support you, and of course you accepted it, because his hand was just as warm and soft and confortable and familiar as _his_, even if it wasn't – even if it _yes_, it was.

But you didn't say it. You knew you hadn't repeated the words to him, and you hear his heart beating, begging you to say it.

But he wasn't _him_, so you didn't.

**II**

It had been a week. A week ago you were crossing universes to see _him_ and save _him_, and now you didn't want to think about it, because he stayed with you, not _him_. And it would be a lie to say that he wasn't like _him_, because he was. Even being another person he still was the most wonderful person you had ever had the pleasure to meet and he was _human_.

But you couldn't. He was completely what you wanted, since what reached your eyes to what reached your heart, but saying it was so ridiculously hard and the mere thought of forming that sentence made you feel so _fake_ that you didn't.

Even when one night you explained to him that what he'd lived the whole week was the normal experience of any mortal and he smiled in a stupid and at the same time cute way and hugged you saying it was _incredible_ and so humanly _brilliant_ and said that he loved you between other random words that were so _him_; even then you couldn't say it.

But just like the other time, you kissed him.

And, this time, you smiled.

**III**

A month.

Things had surprisingly got back to normal and you grateful for it. He had gotten a job, nothing too important, just something to give him money. You barely saw each other due to the messy schedule of both.

He lived with you, in your parent's house. The awkwardness was left behind fast and soon you were just a normal family with weird habits - _like, for example, having the clone of an alien living under the same roof_.

He learned fast that you weren't the same. Well, you were, but not to him, because while he still had all the memories of the adventures you had together, you didn't have those memories with him. Because you have them with _him_ and you still can't absorb it in a clear way.

You wish, more than anything, you could see them as one. To be able to look at him and feel your heartbeat race not feeling guilt for it. To be able to kiss him whenever you wanted – because he would always be open to it – with nothing to stop you.

And the fact that he got used to you so much faster than you got used to him was revolting. He knew to give you space, but not too much. He knew that if he pushed away, there would never be space to reapproximate, so he never let that happen.

He talked all the time about his work and his now _normal_ life and you felt an immense happiness when you heard it because you always dreamt about having a normal life with _him_. And you knew he talked about that frequently because he knew you got happy hearing it.

One day he suffered a car accident. Nothing serious, just some scratches and a broken arm. You were his emergency contact and that made your heart warm in an absurd way, and when you got to the hospital the doctor was trying to convince him to let him put his arm back into place and he didn't want to because it would hurt and he had a pout just like a child's and it was so adorable you couldn't help but smile.

Then you entered and offered your hand for him to hold with his good arm and told him to stop being a child and let the doctor help because he wasn't a Time Lord anymore. He smiled a smile so big that only after he screamed because of the arm being repositioned you noticed that you treated him like he was _him_ by saying that we wasn't a Time Lord _anymore_, meaning he had once been.

And the euphoria was so big – for both of you, because _how did you wish to see him like that!_ – that you opened your mouth to say those words, but he was faster and kissed you and you let yourself being kissed and smiled and kissed him back and when you parted you were so dizzy and lost in him that you only registered the three words he said and nodded your head.

**.**

The doctor then mobilized his arm and said you could go home and you offered your hand for him to hold because you were so happy and needed his contact, and he smiled at you, that big and full of happiness smile, and it was then that you noticed you hadn't stopped kissing since the kiss.

You left the hospital holding hands, laughing at nothing simply _because_ and when you reached your car that you noticed you could easily get used to that; with his hands on yours, with his laughter getting free to your ears, with your heart beating the right way when he was with you.

Then you stopped him, before he could get to the passenger's side of the car, and kissed him like never before. You kissed him with the built need you had to kiss _him_, and you realized you could clearly kiss him like he was _him_ because he finally _was_, or maybe he'd been all the time and you'd been too stupid to realize.

And when you broke apart, breathing heavily, you finally said, "I love you".

And you never spent another day without repeating it.


End file.
